Read Online shadow and lace by Teresa Medeiros - Free Book Online Page A

there were thoughts to guard and secrets to keep. Dark hair furred the muscular expanse of his chest, trailing into a single line that flowed toward his hips and the thin sheet draped there. Unlike his back, his chest was unmarred by nicks or scars. The men who had bested Sir Gareth of Caerleon had bested him from behind. He stirred and Rowena took an involuntary step backward, fearful the camlet sheet might fall away and reveal more of his slumbering form than she cared to see.
    Her feet were cushioned in unearthly softness. She glanced down to discover a pile of furs heaped beside the bed. Gareth must have kicked them away when the warmth of the fire reached the bed. He stirred again, moaning hoarsely, then was still. Rowena looked at the bed, then back at the floor. Her thigh muscles ached from the long hours of clinging to the slippery nag. With a small sigh, she sank to her knees and curled up in the nest of furs.
    Rowena had been asleep for a long time when Gareth rolled out of the bed and sank his heavy frame into a carved chair in front of the hearth. He rested his chin in his hand and studied the girl slumbering at his feet. Hair that had grown limp during their dusty journey now shimmered as thick and ripe as wheat around her face. The kiss of fire gave her skin a rosy flush. Her fist was curled against her parted lips like a child's.
    Gareth stirred restlessly at the thought. Lindsey Fordyce's hair had once been as thick as this girl's, his eyes as blue. Only days after Gareth's father had brought home his vivacious new bride, Fordyce had followed, swearing his fealty and skimming like the golden-haired tail of the sultry-eyed comet who would sweep their lives clean, leaving desolation in her path. The years had not been kind to him. At Revelwood his hands had trembled as if palsied. Dissipation had spun its web into the bags of flesh beneath his eyes. 'Twas no wonder the man had eluded him all these years. Gareth had been searching for a powerful baron with a fortified stronghold, not a strutting wastrel burdened with a crumbling castle. Within Fordyce's pudgy frame, Gareth had not found even a hint of the dapper, jovial knight who had taught Gareth how to dice and bragged ceaselessly each time he journeyed to his castle in the north to tuck another babe in his wife's belly.
    Of its own volition Gareth's gaze followed the smooth planes of Rowena's bliaut down to her flat stomach. What would she do if she awoke to find his lips pressed to hers? he wondered. A faint smile curved his lips. Like Blaine, he would probably taste the bite of her fist against his jaw. That would not be a hindrance. It would not have been a hindrance for Blaine if he had not intervened. He could subdue her with one hand, leaving his other hand free to plunder the ill-gotten gain of his wager with Lindsey Fordyce, Baron of Revelwood.
    He remained in the chair by the fire. There was nothing to do but wait and see if he had baited his trap well enough to awaken some sleeping vestige of honor in Fordyce. Surely even the most indifferent of fathers would not sacrifice a rose like Rowena into his vengeful hands. When the last flame died to a glowing ember, he still sat, watching his captive sleep and wondering if he had made a terrible mistake.
Chapter Five
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    The familiar fingers of dawn coaxed Rowena from sleep. She snuggled deeper into the furs. Grinning hares bounced across the backs of her closed eyelids. She twitched, believing for a moment that she must strap on her knife and take to the moors to hunt. A shutter creaked. She opened her eyes. Hazy light filtered through the open window, haloing Gareth's dark hair in silver. Rowena sat up, clutching the furs to her chest, forgetting for a moment the modest garment she wore.
    Gareth turned at the movement. To her relief, he wore loose fitting chausses, though his chest was still bare. "You may sleep longer if you like," he said. "You were not abed as early as I last night."
    "You